Choices
by Ahon
Summary: A single choice leads a young Jedi down a much darker path, one which might not allow a newborn Rebellion to survive.
1. Prologue

Choices.

"… _you will be interrogated, tortured." The Emperor snarled, yellow teeth flashing as he grinned "You will give me the names of your friends, and allies… and then you will die"_

" _Our deaths will only rally others" Spoke Bail Organa defiantly, chin held high._

" _Your very public and painful executions will serve as an example to the rest of the galaxy" The Emperor quickly responded, lips curling into another sinister sneer._

Fate.

 _General Kota suddenly looked up at nothing, blind eyes brightening, and a sly grin creeping along his battle-worn face._

" _There may be a rebellion yet" He said._

 _Suddenly, a small beep signaled that the proximity alarm for the Throne Room had been tripped, and a crackling blue hologram fazed into existence, a young, hooded man shown running down the hallway._

 _Getting nearer._

" _Lord Vader…" the Emperor said, head tilting in the direction of the imposing figure next to him. "Deal with the boy…"_

 _Darth Vader turned to face the hall leading out of the Throne Room, black boots thudding softly against the metal floor as he departed._

 _He unclipped his lightsaber from his belt._

 _He would end this._

Light.

"… _but you still have much to learn…" Vader rasped, mechanical voice echoing in the dim hall._

" _You have nothing left to teach me" Starkiller replied, taking his lightsaber from his belt and igniting it._

 _Darth Vader raised his own red blade, the color clashing with the soft blue glow of Starkiller's weapon._

 _Kill. Or be killed._

Dark.

 _Starkiller spun Vader into the air, slamming him through the large glass window leading to the Throne Room and using the Force to send him flying through a nearby pillar, the whole structure collapsing along with the Dark Lord onto the lower tier of the deck._

" _Yes, kill him, he was weak, broken! Kill him and you shall take your rightful place at my side!" The Emperor rasped giddily, walking to the center of the room, eyes darting about excitedly._

" _No!" Shouted Kota, rushing towards the Emperor, extending his hands. A lightsaber shot out of the Emperor's robes and into his waiting fingers, but the General barely ignited the red blade before lightning danced wickedly about his frame, the bolts extending out from the gnarled hands of the Emperor._

 _Starkiller hesitated a moment, looking down at the damaged Vader, who by now had recovered and stood, looking up at him. He looked at Kota, screaming in pain as the Emperor cackled and barraged him with another wave of purple electricity._

 _Starkiller took a step towards Kota, then stopped. He looked down at Vader once more, and Vader stared back at him._

 _His hate filled his body as he looked down at the man who took his life from him, who took his father from him._

 _The man who deserved to die._

 _Starkiller leapt down to the lower tier, igniting his blue blade._

 _Kill. Or be killed._

Darkness prevails, light extinguished, fate changed by a single choice.


	2. Chapter 1

Starkiller leapt back up to the platform he had stood on just moments before, leaving behind the lifeless corpse of Darth Vader on the ground below. The fight was over in a matter of minutes, with Starkiller overpowering the weakened Sith Lord easily and running him through with his own blade.

Now, Starkiller strode towards the Emperor, who outstretched his hand to the crawling Kota, delivering another shock of Force lightning through the blind man. He cried out and fell back to the ground, and the Emperor turned away and walked back towards his throne as Starkiller drew near.

"Excellent" the deformed Sith Lord rasped. He turned back to Starkiller, who stood in front of him, hate still burning in his eyes. "Lord Vader was a broken shadow of his former self… I knew that one day you would replace him." The Emperor said, yellow eyes seeming to glow from beneath his hood. "You have just one final test…" He gestured to the old man on the floor, and Starkiller turned, looking down at him.

"Destroy your ties to the Jedi, and at last, you will be a Sith Lord!" The Emperor declared, voice laced with dark anticipation.

Starkiller activated his cyan blade, holding it in his hand. Kota turned towards the sound, face confused and fearful. For a moment, Starkiller's hatred faltered, but he breathed in, collecting himself as he raised his lightsaber. Kota gave a fearful gasp, and for a moment, Starkiller closed his eyes.

The thought entered his head that he could strike down the Emperor, who stood close behind him. Strike him down and spare Kota, taking the Empire for himself. But then he opened his eyes.

Below he saw Kota, the man who was once his enemy. Who had taunted him in the TIE Fighter Construction Facility, who had survived his attack only to be a drunken burden, passed out in the cockpit of his ship.

Useless.

The fire of his hatred burned within him again, and he raised his blade, giving out a primal snarl as he brought it down, slicing the blind man's head clean off with a hiss.

 _You should have made yourself useful sooner, old man_ , thought Starkiller. He felt his rage, his power grow within him, his weakness dying along with Kota.

He turned to the Emperor, who seemed almost shocked at the events that had just transpired, as if he expected a different outcome.

The Sith Lord quickly regained his composure, looking at Starkiller a moment before cackling.

"Yes, yes, I can feel your hatred growing… you are no longer the weak servant of Skywalker, no, you are Sith!"

Starkiller felt his pride swell, pride at overcoming both his so-called Masters, pride at rising above weakness and becoming something more. Something powerful.

Something _unstoppable._

The Emperor eyed Starkiller, his expression pleased. "I can feel your power surging, your connection to the Dark Side deepening… now, no Rebels will stand in our way…"

As he said this, the Emperor turned to the other Rebels in the room, cuffed and floating in their energy prisons.

The Emperor looked to Starkiller.

"Destroy those who make you weak… that is the path to power, my new apprentice…"

"Yes, my Master…" Starkiller said, walking towards the Rebel leaders.

Bail Organa was screaming before he even got close enough to hear.

"Traitor! You killed Kota in cold blood! Your friend! Your mentor! Your-!"

Organa was cut off by Starkiller's raised hand, the only sounds coming from his throat now being choked gags and gurgled sputters.

He pinched his fingers, and heard the snap of the Rebel's trachea.

Satisfied, he turned to Mon Mothma and Garm Bel Iblis, their eyes wide with fear.

He raised his hand, and willed bolts of lightning through his fingertips.

The Rebels were dead within moments.

Starkiller had never felt so invincible.

Until a presence raced through his consciousness, and he turned just in time to see the _Rogue Shadow_ hover in front of the viewport behind the Emperor's throne, with Juno at the helm.

Just in time to feel her anger as she squeezed the trigger of the turbolaser, firing into the throne room.


	3. Chapter 2

There was a flash of green, and then stillness.

Juno's eyes widened visibly from the cockpit, and Starkiller could almost _taste_ her fear.

For Starkiller's hand was outstretched, and the green bolt of energy was suspended in space, mere millimeters from the glass of the throne room.

The Emperor cackled in vicious glee, and Starkiller, power surging, threw the bolt back from where it came, watching as it slammed into the turbolaser and up into the ship.

Explosions sounded silently, the force causing the viewport to crack slightly. Starkiller smirked, waiting for the feeling of Juno's death to race through him, to make him more powerful. But it never came.

An icy vein of fear ran through him as he saw the escape pod jettison. He felt Juno's presence aboard, and raised his hand to grab her, but his energy was exhausted from his earlier feat, and he watched helplessly as Juno kicked the experimental pod's hyperdrive into gear, escaping.

Fear turned to rage as the remainder of the _Rogue Shadow_ burst into a ball of flame that was soon sucked out of existence by the vacuum of space. He would find her. He wouldn't sleep until he had her dead at his feet.

The Emperor turned towards Starkiller, disappointment showing on his warped face.

"In time, my apprentice" he rasped.

Starkiller seethed, grinding his teeth, metal twisting around him as the Force responded to his hate.

The Emperor's mouth twitched in an almost-smirk. The raw power Starkiller possessed pleased him greatly. He proceeded back to his throne, seeming to almost float into it, hands placed on the armrests at his sides.

"For now, I wish for you to retrace your steps. Find all those who would defy me, and _end them_ " he snarled, mouth contorted in a vile sneer. Starkiller brought his rage down to a simmer, bowing.

"Yes, Master." He said, voice low.

He walked across the throne room and down the platform leading out of it. As he passed, he spotted a group of Royal Guards below, dragging away the lifeless corpse of Darth Vader. Starkiller's pride swelled as he saw the remains of his tormentor being dragged away. He may still be a servant, but his Master was more powerful than Vader ever was. And if his act of killing both the Sith Lord and Kota on the same day proved anything, it's that things change.

One day, Starkiller would be his own Master, and then nothing would stop him.

Starkiller made his way down to the hanger, through vast corridors and long, dimly-lit halls until he made it to the tall, imposing doors labeled _Hanger Alpha-457_. Stepping inside, he glanced briefly down the rows of TIE fighters until he spotted what he was looking for. Making his way down the line, he used the Force to lower the hatch of a _Lambda-_ class T-4a shuttle, traveling up it into the interior.

Before entering the cockpit, Starkiller hooked left, remembering this class of shuttle's insides from the rigorous testing Vader had forced him to undertake in the classification and identification of all Imperial vessels. He entered a small room, with a small closet and folded-up bed inserted along the wall. Opening the closet, Starkiller grabbed a spare Imperial pilot's uniform from inside, folding out the bed and laying it out. He skipped the helmet, the sleek blackness of its surface reminding him too much of his deceased Master, bringing his rage to a low boil as he glanced at it on the shelf.

He began to strip his battle-worn Jedi robes, tearing at them with no thought of preservation. They were a sign of his old life, his weak life. He planned to toss them into an incinerator and watch them burn.

A few moments later, Starkiller stepped into the cockpit, donned in his new attire; standard-issue black shirt, pants and belt, with leather gloves and shined boots, the only break in the black the square panel on his chest, meant to regulate the helmet's oxygen intake, but without it, the panel was merely decorative.

Starkiller sat in the pilot chair, flicking a few switches to prime the engines, and tapping a few keys to transmit the take-off sequence to the control tower nestled in the left corner of the hanger. When his code was cleared, he began to make his exit, carefully sliding the shuttle into space.

He punched in hyperspace coordinates that would take him to Bespin. Garm Bel-Iblis was rallying support for the Rebellion there when Starkiller had arrived to rescue him. He would start his hunt there.

He would kill every last Rebellion-supporter he had enlisted, and then… he would destroy the Emperor.


End file.
